


The Almost Wedding of John Watson and Mary Morstan

by SecretFangirl98



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, John's an Idiot, M/M, Minor Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock's Grave, Weddings, post trf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretFangirl98/pseuds/SecretFangirl98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's getting married soon. To Mary.</p><p>Still not over Sherlock's death he's starting to think he's made the wrong decision.</p><p>Too late to back out now, if only something or somebody would conveniently crash the wedding.</p><p>(Based off a prompt seen on Tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Almost Wedding of John Watson and Mary Morstan

**Author's Note:**

> First work on here, criticism welcome, I know I'm not the best so don't be too harsh.
> 
> I don't have a beta so if any mistakes are spotted please let me know.
> 
> Hopefully this will have a sequel, anyway, enjoy!

Sherlock had been dead for six months when John met Mary, they hadn't started dating straight away but it was close enough. She’d managed to help him through some of the rougher patches, he wasn’t over Sherlock dying, far from it but he as dead and John knew moping around 221B did absolutely nothing for his health. Lestrade had tried to get him out, so had Molly and Mike, even Mrs. Hudson, yet staying in the flat seem like a better idea to him at the time. Then Mary came along, she encouraged John to move out and he did, straight into her place. They’d been dating two months. 

John had never said ‘I love you’ before, no, but he’d been in love. Yet the occasion to say it to anybody never arose, apart from family of course. He’d loved Sherlock, yet the man had thrown himself off a building before John could tell him. Yet when Mary says it after six months of dating, two days after the one year anniversary of his death, John can’t bring himself to not say it back. He feels obligated to say it to the woman who had stayed with him for this long.

He proposes two months later, he had no plan to do it, then his mother jumped into his head. He and Mary had gone for a short visit and his mother had demanded to know when John planned to propose, even gave him her own ring that had belonged to his grandmother before her. Harry had never asked for it for Clara so John got it, and without thinking that night he got on one knee and proposed.

Of course she said yes.

Then came the planning. The months of planning. Only two months though, they wanted to get married quick, short affair. John hated it, but he could not back out. Turns out he’d become a coward since Sherlock’s death. 

When it came to choosing his best man his mind immediately went to Sherlock, but of course, his best friend was dead, so instead he called Lestrade who had agreed immediately and congratulated him, of course it was forced, Lestrade was one of the only people to know how John felt about Sherlock and knew it was all too soon to be getting married.

The news started getting around, but the last thing he’d expected on the way to a suit fitting, three weeks before the wedding was a sleek black car pulling up beside him as he walked.

“Get in, Dr. Watson.”

John didn't even argue, too much of a coward now.

“Ah, Mycroft. I thought me and you had seen the last of each other, or so I’d hoped.” John sighed seeing the older Holmes brother inside of an abandoned warehous. Drama queen.

“Just felt the need to congratulate you. You're getting married soon. Unexpected I must admit. After all, you and my brother seemed rather close, I assumed there was something that you just managed to hide.” Mycroft said, watching John, waiting for a reaction.

“Me and Sherlock? No… no. Nothing. He didn't date and I wasn't interested.”

“No. Of course you weren’t, Dr. Watson. I’m sure Sherlock would be happy for you if he was here, or not. He probably would have ruined your relationship with Miss Morstan, he had a habit of scaring your girlfriends off. Anyway, I wish you the best of luck, John Watson. You're going to need it. I received my invitation and will be attending.”

John could not ask him what he’d meant by needing luck because Mycroft was already leaving, if only he had been able to see the text he had sent.

 

18th May.  
12 o’clock.  
St. Mary’s Church.  
Intervene.  
Try not to be dramatic, Sherlock.  
-MH

John left, still a little confused by Mycroft and the fact he was actually going to attend the wedding, he had only sent the invitation out of politeness.

Time seemed to move faster and faster and before John knew it, it was the day before the wedding. Mary had wanted to keep some kind of tradition so she had gone to spend the night at a friend’s house, and John? He’d gone to the only place he could think of. Sherlock’s grave. He often went there when he needed to think but this time he just sat opposite it, saying nothing as he stared at his lap.

“I think I’m making a mistake.” He whispered after ten minutes, looking up at the cold black marble, Sherlock’s name standing out in the moonlight. “It should have been you at the end of the aisle tomorrow. If you'd wanted me. If you hadn't died.”

John needed to stop blaming Sherlock for what happened, the man was gone and John needed to come to terms with that sooner rather than later.

“I think it’s time to say goodbye, Sherlock.” He sighed standing up and turning his back on the grave of his best friend, if he’d stayed facing the grave for a few more seconds he would have seen the man only five feet away, curly hair and the all too familiar Belstaff coat, but he did not and he was already gone before Sherlock could stop him.

The morning came all too soon, his a, he had only had a few hours sleep but it did not matter, he was up, showered and dressed in minutes and waiting on Lestrade to come get him.

“No cold feet?” The inspector asked.

“No.” John said, staring out the window.

“Right. Of course not. You don’t get cold feet.” Lestrade muttered.

But he was wrong, John did get cold feet and he wanted nothing more than to run away, but he couldn’t, because John Watson was a coward. The man who had invaded Afghanistan, the man who had shot a cab driver for a man he had known for a day, the man who chased criminals for fun, was a coward.

They reached the church after ten more minutes of driving and John knew he couldn't back out not. He was going through with this.

Idiot.

God even his mind sounded like Sherlock. 

He went into the church and greeted his family and friends, even Harry was there, she merely smiled, she was the other person who knew about his love for Sherlock, yet she didn't criticise him for what he was doing, she knew there was nothing she could say to stop him. 

He found himself waiting at the aisle for Mary, and tried to figure out how hed ended up here, how his friend had ended up dead, because if he was alive there was no way Sherlock would have let him go trough with this, probably would have knocked some sense into him.  
John made eye contact with Mycroft Holmes who was smirking suspiciously, obviously forming some kind of pan and when the man who had control over the whole of the British government starts planning something people should be worried.

Let him start a war, at least it would get him out of this mess.

What was he thinking? He should not be thinking, he was getting married, he should be happy.

Yet somehow he had missed Mary walking down the aisle, one second he was staring blankly ahead and now she was in front of him, smiling brightly. 

Mary takes his hands and smiles softly. “You know, Sherlock would be happy for you.”

All he could do was nod silently, he disagreed, he would not be happy, he would be calling John a bloody idiot and John would love nothing more than for Sherlock to burst in yelling that. Right now.

“Do you John Hamish Watson take Mary Elizabeth Morstan to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” He whispered after a few seconds of silence.

“And do you Mary Elizabeth Morstan take John Hamish Watson to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Mary smiled and nodded. “Yes. I do.”

“If anybody has a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

John should not be looking around hopefully but he does and nobody speaks, it’s deadly silent, in a room full of people nobody speaks or moves, and the priest is about to open his mouth and keep talking when everybody’s phone in the whole church sounds, it echos. Even the priests phone sounds and John’s reaching for his before anybody else.

Everybody’s shuffling, curious to know why everybody is receiving a text simultaneously, John’s staring silently, completely dumbstruck at his phone. Mycroft is smirking, and Lestrade is first to break the silence with laughter, loud and happy because of two simple words.

I object.  
-SH

Everybody’s looking around for the culprit but John already knows who it is and he’s shaking, with anger, happiness, he does not know but he’s moving before his brain can even function and he’s moving back up the aisle and he’s not even half way when the church doors swing open, revealing the impeccably dressed Sherlock Holmes.

“I do hope I’m not too late, so John, how about you stop this nonsense. I mean really? Marriage? To her no less? Bit too domestic if you ask me.”

“Oh I am going to bloody kill you, Sherlock Holmes.”


End file.
